


Out of the Pocket

by cerie



Series: Hail Mary [1]
Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: AU, Domestic Violence, F/M, High School, High School AU, Small Towns, football friday nights, teenage sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:50:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2787323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/pseuds/cerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a girl sitting two tables over that Will hasn’t seen before. He’s seen and met everyone in his hick town about three thousand times over and there’s never anyone new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of the Pocket

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Callie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callie/gifts).



> So the working title of this was Jesus, Girls and Will McAvoy and then I realized that nobody would get that unless they'd seen [this interview](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HVFZI3ENhXQ) with the head coach of the Oregon Ducks. 
> 
> The pocket is where a QB hangs out to throw the ball in a forward pass behind the line of scrimmage and when the blitz comes, you have to get the hell out.

_Fall 1982_

There’s a girl sitting two tables over that Will hasn’t seen before. He’s seen and met everyone in his hick town about three thousand times over and there’s never anyone new. Why would anyone move to Waverly anyway? It’s just farms and flat land and a road on the way to Lincoln, which is a road on the way to Omaha. It’s nothing special. Will has plans to get out of here someday and make something of himself, to do a job that means wearing a suit and tie to work and not getting his hands dirty working on cars or running a farm. He wants to be different. He wants...a lot of things.

Right now, he wants the girl to notice him. All he can see is the top of her head and she has rich brown hair with little reddish-gold highlights. It looks shiny and soft and like it might feel like water rippling beneath his fingertips. She’s busy writing something, homework? Notes for a test? Will isn’t sure. She has slim little fingers wrapped around her pencil and he can’t see it from here but he thinks she has the kind of neat, pretty handwriting that just reminds him why girls are better than guys in almost every way possible. 

She clears her throat and he looks down, embarrassed at almost having been caught. While he’s the captain of the football team and the starting quarterback, Will isn’t particularly good with girls. He _wants_ to be. He wants to be smooth and suave like some of the other guys on the team are but any time he gets faced with a girl (Becca Halliday comes to mind) he gets tongue-tied and ends up just making an ass of himself. His brother is even better at getting girls than he is, which is an accomplishment considering Michael’s still in junior high. When he thinks the coast might be clear, he lifts his head up to look at the girl again, just in time to see two of the tight ends snap her bra. 

The girl bolts out of her chair, unintelligible words coming out of her mouth in an accent that reminds Will of the old films they had to watch in English when they were studying Shakespeare. She’s _English_. Why is there an English girl in the middle of the library in Waverly, Nebraska and why does she have to be so pretty? Will can’t get up the nerve to talk to her but he can deal with the two guys who were teasing her. 

“Hey, leave her alone. I’m telling Coach Skinner and you’re getting benched Friday night. You think I’m kidding? Get the hell out of here.” 

Will has never been able to stand when anyone gets picked on. Before he started playing football, a lot of the time it was him. He was a little short for his age and a little scrawny and his clothes were old hand-me-downs that never fit right. The clothes are still hand-me-downs and they don’t fit but now he’s 6’4” and has, according to Coach, one of the best arms in Nebraska. He wins football games on Friday night and that covers up a lot of sins. 

Brenner and Campbell scram and he’s left alone with the girl. He sits down at her table but he doesn’t say anything, too scared he’s going to screw things up. She mumbles a quiet “thanks,” and goes back to her notes; Will looks past her hand to see that it’s math and the paper is covered in eraser marks. She erases something furiously, so hard that it rips a hole in the paper. She lets out a little frustrated noise and just rips the sheet of paper up into tiny little sheets and when Will dares look up at her, he can see her face is red and blotchy from crying. He knows those faces. He’s seen them a lot on his sisters and his mom. 

“They’re not gonna bother you anymore. I meant what I said.” Will steals a glance at the header of her paper (Mrs. Walker, the math teacher, she’s all about a proper header and it’s annoying as hell to remember what all information she wants) and sees a last name. McHale. Okay. So her last name is McHale. His sister Mary works in the office sometimes after school so she can avoid taking the bus home and getting teased and he bets she can find out who McHale is. Or, of course, he could always ask McHale herself. 

“I don’t care about them,” she says, voice huffy. Will wonders what her voice might sound like when she’s happy, how that accent would wrap around the words differently than his flat, Midwestern one does. He’s never heard anyone with a voice like hers and it sounds musical, the way it lilts up and down. Care sounds like it has an H in it and everything about her just screams wealthy and expensive and _nice_ ; she reminds him of how the new Princess sounded on an interview about the royal wedding last summer (he has a mom and sisters, he saw that). 

“I’m failing maths. I’ve got a failing mark right now and my father told me if I don’t pull it up, I’m not allowed to go back to England this summer to see my friends. I have to stay here and do summer school.” 

Will wonders what she’s doing here anyway. It’s not like there’s a lot in the way of big business for foreigners in the middle of Nebraska but he doesn’t really think it’s his place to ask, either. Still, she’s talking to him, and that’s good. That’s better than usual. He wipes his sweaty palms against his jeans and clears his throat. 

“I uh, I have an A. I could help you, if you want? I don’t have a lot of time. I’ve got a job and football practice and uh, stuff, but I could make some time?” 

She looks up and for the first time, Will sees her face up close. She has beautiful brown eyes with long lashes and a wide mouth that’s drawn down into a pout. There’s a smattering of freckles on her nose that reminds him of cinnamon and she’s just plain beautiful. She’s even more beautiful when she looks at him like this, like he’s just pulled the sun from the sky and handed it to her. 

“You’ve saved my life! Oh, I could kiss you. I won’t, because we barely know one another but you’ve completely saved me. Thank you!” Will is about to ask for her name and phone number when she looks down at her watch and squeaks. “I’m late! Oh God, my father’s going to kill me. Thank you!” 

It’s only after she’s left in a whirlwind of books and papers and softly-accented exclamations that Will realizes he still doesn’t know her name.

***

Will has taken to showing up in the library every day after school and before football practice to see if he’ll see the girl again. She’s showed up twice in the last two weeks and both times he’s been too chicken to ever ask her name. He’s started just referring to her as Mac, since her last name is McHale, and she seems to answer to it so he guesses he’s accomplished something. He still doesn’t know how to get in touch with her or where she lives or much of anything about her other than her trouble with numbers.

Will dutifully helps her work through the problems Mrs. Walker assigned for homework every time she shows up and today, she brings him a bag of chocolate chip cookies and a big, broad smile. “I’ve done it! I made a B on that last homework! I’ve never seen a B before in my life. Well, that’s because the marks are different in England but a B! It’s passing! It’s _good_!” 

Will rubs the back of his neck and busies himself with eating one of the cookies while he looks at her current homework. It’s factoring polynomials, something that can be kind of tricky, and he’s explaining how to break things down step by step when he realizes today is Wednesday and while he doesn’t have practice, his dad expects him home right after school so he can help muck out stalls and put out feed. He knocks his chair over in an attempt to get the hell out of there as fast as he can, leaving Mac with a stunned look on her face. Will feels bad about that. He doesn’t want Mac to think it’s something she did wrong and he worries that he’s offended her. He likes her more than he’s ever liked a girl before and he’s scared that she doesn’t like him back. At least they have the math thing. 

When he gets home, Susan and Mary catch him at the end of the driveway. “He’s pissed, Will. He hit Mom again.” Will swallows thickly, trying to push down the guilt he feels. His mom is hurt now because he was late and there’s no telling what kind of mood his dad is in right now. He searches Mary and Susan’s faces, trying to see if they’re hurt too. His dad has gotten pretty good at hiding the bruises now. Their town is pretty quiet and close-mouthed but the school had said something the last time Mary came to class with a busted lip and his dad had gotten locked up for six months. They’d all had to go stay at his grandmother’s for a while until things had worked out and Will had hoped his mom would just leave. She hadn’t. She took him back as soon as he did his time. 

“Is she okay? Does she need to go to the hospital?” Will doesn’t care if it means his dad goes to jail again. Selfishly, he hopes that he does. Sure, he runs the farm and provides for them but he drinks up all their money and there’s never enough food or clothes or even feed, sometimes. Will’s been denied credit at the feed store more times than he can count and it’s just embarrassing to have to put things back because he can’t afford them. He manages to keep them all fed but that’s because he works at a grocery store and a lot of times they let him take home the day old bread and the scratch and dents. It’s charity but he feels like he puts in enough hard work every weekend to make up for it and, of course, all summer long. 

“She says she’s fine. You’ll have to check on her later.” Will kisses the tops of their heads and squeezes them tight for a moment. Somehow, his ongoing dilemma with not knowing Mac’s name pales in comparison to this. This shit show is his real life. Mac is just a pretty fantasy that he’s never actually going to make reality. 

Will can run a 40 in 4.4 but it feels like it takes him a thousand years to walk from the house down to the barn to see his dad. When he gets there, it looks like he’s worked his way through half a bottle of scotch and Will can smell it. He doesn’t think he’ll ever drink. The smell of it just turns his stomach, just like the smell of the stale, hand-rolled cigarettes his dad always smokes. Both are covering up the smell of sweet, fresh hay and Will feels his heart drop into his stomach. 

“Boy, I told you to come home and help me today,” he slurs. “You act like just because you can throw that damn football that you don’t have chores and shit to do? You know you’re supposed to be here on Wednesdays.” Will lifts his chin up high. When he was younger, he used to dip his head down and mumble “yes, sir,” and “no, sir” to anything his dad said but now that he’s bigger, he looks him in the eye. Will’s got at least five inches on his dad and while he doesn’t weigh any more, the height helps him feel a little stronger. 

“I had something to do and I lost track of time. I’m sorry. You know I would have gotten the stalls done when I got home.” His dad snorts a little and tips the bottle back. When he lowers it again, there’s scotch dribbling down his chin. Will balls his hand up in a fist and tries to resist the urge to hit him. The bottle has thick glass at the bottom and it looks heftier than usual. It’s better scotch (Will wouldn’t go so far as to say good) than his dad normally buys and he thinks that means it cost more money. Of course. 

“You’re a worthless little shit sometimes, you know that? You better hope that golden arm of yours doesn’t get injured because otherwise, you’re going to be right here with me the rest of your goddamn life.” 

Will thinks that even if he destroys his arm, he’s still going to college and getting the kind of job that means he can be far, far away from John McAvoy for the rest of his life. He thinks he wants to move to New York someday, to be a lawyer or a banker or maybe a doctor. He wants the kind of job that means people respect him at the end of the day and trust him and he doesn’t think farmer is the way to go about that. Especially not if farmer means staying here with his dad. 

“I’m too smart to stay here,” Will smarts back. It’s a mistake. His dad might be shorter than him but he’s just as fast and he clears the distance lightning-quick. The bottle pops up and knocks against his lip; Will can taste the coppery tang of blood in his mouth and one of his teeth feels a little loose. He lifts his hands up and shoves at his dad with all his strength, knocking him back onto the ground. Will doesn’t look back. He just runs back toward the house, feet carrying him as fast as he can fly and he wonders if he did it in 4.3 instead of 4.4. 

When he lets himself in the back door, his siblings are nowhere to be found. Will smells food and thinks his mom must be around, if nothing else, and when he wanders into the kitchen, she’s there. Her face looks soft and tired, puffy from crying, and Will crosses the distance in two strides. He holds his arms out for her and very, very lightly eases them around her. He isn’t sure what’s hurting right now. 

“Where did he hit you, Mom?” He rubs little circles over her back and his mom’s voice is oh-so-soft in reply. 

“Ribs. I think I broke one. I taped it, though, it’s all right. He kicked me.” Will tries to swallow down his anger and focus, instead, on comforting her. Anger isn’t going to get him anywhere but if he can make his mom feel any better, that’s a job well done. He strokes her hair and pulls away after a moment. 

“Let me finish supper, Mom. Go rest, okay?” She looks at him with big, dark eyes and shakes her head. “You don’t need to do that, Billy. I’ve got this.” They dance around it for a moment and finally Will just crosses the kitchen and pulls out a chair and orders her to sit. Maybe she won’t go lay down in bed but she won’t be working. When she walks away, he notices she’s limping a little more than usual. 

A few years ago, his dad had thrown her down hard enough that she broke a leg. Since then, she hasn’t walked quite right and sometimes the old injury gets aggravated. Will thinks it’s because they couldn’t really afford to go to the doctor and he’d just helped her set it with a splint he made out of some scrap wood in the barn. It had been pretty smart, honestly - he’d lined it with soft wool and built it as straight as he could manage. Still, he’s not a doctor and it wasn’t a real cast. 

She’s making steaks. They actually eat steak a lot, mostly because it’s cheap when you raise beef cattle. Will loves steak but he thinks sometimes he might like to have fresh fruit or vegetables or even chocolate cake. They have it sometimes on their birthdays, if his mom can scrape up enough money for the frosting and Will thinks when he has kids someday, he’s going to make sure they always have a treat after dinner. There’s always going to be enough. Will flips over a steak and listens to it sizzle in the pan and almost misses what his mom says next. 

“Tell me about school? How’s classes? How’s Coach Skinner?” There’s a ton of things going on. He’s got A’s in everything and the choir teacher heard him singing one day over lunch and asked if he’d try out for the school play. He said no, because between work and football and his dad, there’s no way he’d have time or permission to do that even if he did wistfully think about auditioning. He ran a 4.4 in the 40 and won an award in gym. Coach Skinner wants to have him start lifting weights and bulking up because some Nebraska scouts are coming to watch him in October. 

“I met a girl,” he blurts out. Oh. Mac was a thing he wanted to keep secret from everyone, siblings and mother included, but now he’s exposed himself. Mac is like some secret little ray of sunshine that he wants to keep far, far away from his real life because he thinks she wouldn’t like it very much if she knew the truth about him. 

“A girl?” Will thinks this is the first time he’s seen his mother smile in a long time. He gives her a sheepish grin in response and concentrates on the steak a little more than is absolutely necessary. It seems weird to talk about Mac to his mom but, then again, there’s nobody in the world he loves more than his mother. If anyone can keep a secret, it’s her, and he bites his lip a little before remembering it’s cut and swollen. Ouch. 

“Yeah. I don’t know her name. Well, I know her last name. Her last name is McHale. I don’t know her first name and I started calling her Mac and she answers to it and now I’m too embarrassed to ask what her name actually is. Stupid, right?” 

His mother laughs a little and lifts her hand to her mouth. She has this little sparkle in her eyes that is usually followed with an _Oh, Billy_ and while it makes him feel kind of lame, he likes it too. It feels pretty special to be the only kid who has a nickname in this house and he prefers Billy to shit, which is what his dad usually refers to him as. 

“It’s sort of sweet, I think. Have you asked her on a date? Brought her flowers?” These are all very pointed questions and Will feels a little hot under the collar. He mumbles a no and works on getting the steaks out of the pan and onto a platter so he can put them on the table. This is something he can deal with that will require some concentration and it buys him a little time. 

“Girls like flowers, Billy. I think if you got her some flowers, she wouldn’t care so much that you don’t know her first name.” 

He guesses he’s going to get her some flowers.

***

It takes him a few more days but Will has figured out where Mac’s locker is. It’s actually on the way to his fifth period class and he has gym in fourth, which is perfect. There’s a bunch of daisies and black-eyed susans that grow along the fence of the field they use for everything in gym and once everyone has cleared out, he scoops up a handful and rushes back to the locker room to change with them in hand. He puts the flowers between him and his locker and changes quickly, hoping the other guys don’t see them. He doesn’t want to deal with them giving him shit or, worse, stealing the flowers before he can give them to Mac.

He rushes out of the locker room and panics when he doesn’t see her by her locker. Did he miss her? The warning bell rings and the halls start to clear out a little and that’s when he spots her bending over to drink from the water fountain. Mac is kind of tall for a girl and she always has to stoop to reach the fountain. He clears his throat and thrusts out the flowers; there’s a few that have been crushed and the stems are bent but most of them look okay. 

“Are they for me? You brought me flowers? Will!” Her voice is high-pitched and kind of a squeal and Will thinks that’s probably a good thing, especially when Mac wraps her arms around him. The bell rings again and they’re officially late but that doesn’t seem to matter very much when he feels her soft, soft lips brushing up against his cheek. _God_. She kissed him. 

Will thinks he’s floating. 

Later, he goes to fifth, sixth and seventh period but he doesn’t really get anything from them. He writes things down and answers questions when he’s called on but other than that, his brain is on Mac. She kissed him. His cheek still burns a little where her lips pressed against it and he wonders, not for the first time, what her lips might feel like under his. He’s only ever kissed one girl, Becca, and it had been a complete disaster. He didn’t know where to put his hands or where to put hers and her braces had clacked against his teeth (which was totally his fault and not hers.) 

He wonders what it might be like to kiss Mac. She doesn’t have braces and her lips are impossibly soft and her mouth is just beautiful. He thinks about her mouth a lot. He thinks about her hands a lot too, about how those slim, small hands might feel in his hair or rubbing his back. Some of the other players’ girlfriends give them massages after practice, especially the cheerleaders, and he wonders if Mac might ever do that for him. Would she be interested? God. It’s enough to distract him from any and everything important. 

He goes to the library and waits for her, hoping he’ll get a chance to help her with her homework before he has to go to practice. Coach is going to tear him a new one if he’s as distracted at practice as he is right now and Will thinks he probably needs to get his fill of Mac if he’s going to be expected to be worth anything later. 

He isn’t disappointed. She shows up after a few minutes and plunks down in the chair next to him but none of her books are with her. Oh. That’s different. Maybe that means she doesn’t need his help anymore and she can do the math on her own. Will’s slightly disappointed. He’s glad she’s apparently doing better in math but he’s sad that he won’t have an excuse to see her anymore if that’s the case. 

“You got me flowers.” Will chances a look at her and she’s grinning from ear to ear. The corners of her eyes crinkle up a little when she smiles and it’s quite possibly the most adorable thing he’s ever seen in his life. He thinks he could die happy having seen this look on her face and knowing he caused it. 

“I’ve never had a boy give me flowers before. Never.” 

Will thinks that’s crazy. Mac is the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in real life and the fact that she doesn’t seem to have a boyfriend is nuts in and of itself. Nobody’s ever given her flowers? Well. He’s happy to keep doing it, so long as the flowers are free and she keeps smiling at him like that. 

“I made an A on my test earlier. I think I understand maths now.” Will was afraid of that. He tries not to be disappointed and mostly succeeds. He rubs the back of his neck a little and looks at her, trying to frame the perfect, happy response. 

“That’s fantastic. I knew you’d get it. You’re too smart not to get it. It’s going to be different, though, not rushing here every day to help you with your homework.” 

Mac gives him a little quizzical look and laughs, though it comes out a little exasperated. Huh? Doesn’t she want to be better at math? Wasn’t that the point of accepting his help anyway, so she could do it on her own? Will doesn’t think he will ever understand girls, especially if they’re all like Mac. 

“Will. It means we can spend our hour every day doing something that isn’t maths. You can still hang with me even if we’re not doing homework. Actually, I think it might be preferable to hang around you when we don’t have maths mucking up the space between us.” 

Their chosen table in the library is in the back corner next to dusty reference volumes nobody ever uses. Will had picked it because it was quiet and he could hide until practice but now it seems like the privacy is conducive to other things. Mac puts her hand on his and Will thinks his heart is beating double time; is she going to kiss him? Does she want him to kiss her? Should they even be kissing in a library? 

He’s leaning in to kiss her right when she’s leaning in to kiss him and they bump heads. Mac pulls away with a soft _ouch_ and rubs her forehead in the exact same spot that Will is rubbing his. God. He’s such a fucking goober. It’s no wonder that the whole thing with Becca Halliday at Nina’s party was a no-go. He’s awful at kissing and now he’s hurt Mac. 

Mac giggles a little and reaches her hand up to cup his cheek. Will stays perfectly still this time, squeezing his eyes shut when she gets impossibly close to his face. Her lips are soft against his and even though the cut from his dad still stings, he doesn’t mind that little bit of pain. She presses her mouth to his softly and it feels like instinct to part his lips and give her a little more to work with; Mac doesn’t hesitate. Her tongue slides along his lower lip and past his teeth to touch his and Will thinks he’s floating. This is easily the best thing that’s ever happened to him in his life. 

When she pulls away he has no idea what to say and he blurts out the first thing he can think of, which probably isn’t the best thing. It’s definitely not the smoothest thing to say, that’s for sure. 

“Mac, I don’t know your first name. I can’t kiss a girl and not know her name.” 

Mac laughs and hides the giggle behind her hand like she’s trying to minimize how cute she is and is failing miserably. She brushes a lock of hair off his forehead and smooths it back, only for it to fall right back down again, something she seems to find just as amusing as his proclamation that he doesn’t know her name. Maybe it’s funny to her but it’s serious for him. He can’t go on without knowing this girl’s first name.

“My name _is_ Mac, you dolt. It’s MacKenzie. Everyone calls me Mac for short. I just assumed you knew since you called me that.” 

Will feels his cheeks burning and mumbles a no. He wants to figure out a way to get her number or ask her on a date and he can’t think of what words to use. It always seems so easy for other people and he’s usually pretty good at giving advice but he’s terrible at taking it. All the guys on the team seem to think the best way to treat a girl is to get in her panties and move on to the next one but Will thinks he can only handle one girl at a time and he doesn’t want anything that involves his hand in her panties. Well, okay, he _does_ but he thinks that’s not fair to Mac to think about that kind of stuff. 

MacKenzie. It’s not fair to _MacKenzie_. 

“I said, you should ask me out. Friday. After the game? We can go get ice cream.” Oh. He had wanted to ask her out himself but he guesses since Mac took care of that for him, he can at least nod along and agree with her plans. He can take her to Dairy Queen. He thinks he’ll have enough money left over after gas and giving some to his mom for groceries to treat her to an ice cream. 

“Okay. Will you go out with me on Friday? After the game? To Dairy Queen?” 

Mac nods vigorously and kisses his cheek again messily. When she leaves, Will still has a stunned little smile on his face and his heart hasn’t quite calmed down. Oh boy. He’s got a date with MacKenzie McHale.

***

There’s a scout in town. Will thinks he would know it was a scout since the guy drives a little sedan and wears a dark suit that seems unassuming but is anything but unassuming but Coach pulls him aside at practice and introduces him to the guy and answers all those unvoiced questions.

His name is Tom and he’s someone who works at Nebraska. Ever since Will was a little boy, he’s wanted to play football for Nebraska. He remembers once his dad got them tickets to see a home game at Memorial Stadium and while Will can’t remember the score or the other team or anything, he remembers Nebraska won and it was a whole sea of red in the stadium. They all wore matching red t-shirts and tried to sing along with the cheers and songs and Will remembers being caught up in just a tide of happiness. He thinks it might be the best thing ever to play at Nebraska, especially since he’s heard colleges give football players full scholarships. 

He wants to play well. Tom goes over to the bleachers and just watches while they do drills and Will pushes as hard as he can. He’s got a non-contact jersey for practice but he still scrambles in the pocket like he’s going to be sacked and when he decides to run the ball, he jukes left and right just like he would during a game. He plays his heart out. He looks to the stands to see what Tom thinks and all he can see is that he’s writing on a little notepad and smiling a little to himself. Oh. That’s good, right? 

After practice, Will wants to talk to Coach but Coach is busy talking to Tom about something. He waits around until it gets dark and the stadium lights flick on and finally Coach is shaking Tom’s hand and Tom is heading back to his sedan. It’s so weird to see a car out here when everyone drives trucks and Will can tell that Tom is someone who doesn’t normally come out to the sticks really often. 

“Coach? What did he say? Am I good enough for Nebraska?” Coach laughs a little and ruffles his hair. Will is a good six inches taller than Coach Skinner but somehow he always feels like a little boy around him. Coach doesn’t have any sons, just a daughter in college somewhere back East and Will kind of wishes that Coach was his dad. It’s crappy, and he knows it, but he can’t change the way he feels. 

“He says you have a good arm and good eyes. But you need to put on at least thirty or forty pounds and lift some weights. I told him we’ve got a weight training plan in place and we’re working on it and he said he’ll see. I think you have a good shot, kid. He looked impressed. I’ve known him for a long time and it’s hard to impress him.” 

Will grins wide. “Would there be a scholarship? If he wants me to play for Nebraska, they’d offer me a scholarship, right? For anything I want?” Coach nods once. “Yeah, kid. If they want you to come play for them, they’re going to offer you a scholarship. But you’re competing with a lot of other kids out there on these farms, kids in Nebraska, Texas, Kansas...you’re competing with a lot of other kids.” 

Will knows this, realistically, but he doesn’t want to think about it. He wants to think he’s good enough to start at Nebraska and that he’s smart enough to keep his grades up and get a good degree for a good job later when he’s not playing football. Will thinks he’s good at playing QB, yeah, but he’s not under the delusion that he’s good enough to play on Sundays. Hardly anyone is good enough to play on Sundays. 

“Tom’s coming back Friday night. There’s going to be some guys here from Oklahoma and Missouri and some guy all the way from UCLA but I want you to keep your eyes on that ball and that field. You show them what you can do with your arm and your legs and don’t think about them being there. Just play like you always play.” 

Will grins and when he does, it splits his lip a little more. Coach frowns and touches it lightly with his thumb. “I’ve got something for that. Let’s go get an ice cream, kid. You earned it.” 

Will’s going to go get ice cream with Mac on Friday but he guesses there’s no harm in having some with Coach the night before. This is different. This is the kind of relationship he wishes he could have his with real dad but for some reason, Coach gets it right in every single way and his dad just screws it up. Sure, Coach can get angry, but Coach has never lifted a hand to him and his anger comes from a good place, from wanting Will to do his best. His father just wants to see him fail. 

“When did he hit you?” It’s a blunt question but Will is used to them from Coach Skinner. He’s known him for a long time and Coach is one of the few teachers he has that asks about it anymore; the rest don’t because they realize it doesn’t do any good. His mother is never going to leave his father and they’re all going to suffer if he’s in jail again. They’ll starve to death before his mother will take help from anyone. 

“Last Wednesday. I was late getting home because I was with Mac...I was at the library.” Coach doesn’t know about Mac. Will likes to keep Mac separate from everything - football, home, school. She’s something special that he doesn’t want to share with just everyone but he guesses if their date goes well, he’s going to have to at least introduce her to his mother. 

“Mac? That’s trouble, son,” Coach says. “Pretty trouble, but trouble. Be careful. You’re going places and she...her father’s an exec with BP. They’re drilling oil wells all over the damn state and he’s got more money to wipe his ass with than you and I are ever going to see for the rest of our lives. She’s not like us, Will. She’s a whole other breed.” 

Oh. Will didn’t know that. He realizes he doesn’t know much about Mac because she just hasn’t volunteered much. He knows she’s got some older brothers and sisters and she’s the only one still living at home. He doesn’t know where she lives and he didn’t know her dad was some kind of oil tycoon. He guesses that explains the nice clothes and the fact that she’s from England and living in the middle of nowhere. 

“I don’t think Mac cares whether or not I have any money,” Will says quietly. Coach gives him a soft look and shakes his head. He’s quiet on the ride over to Dairy Queen and it’s only after they both have ice cream in hand that Coach says anything else about Mac. 

“It’s not Mac that cares about whether or not you have any money. It’s Mac’s father. She’s going to be a distraction, Will. Just keep that in mind.”

***

Will plays his heart out on Friday night. He throws three touchdown passes, one of them a screamer of a Hail Mary that goes flying across the field and makes the crowd go wild. He runs in another touchdown on his legs, too, and they end up winning the game 28-14. He doesn’t throw any picks and he doesn’t get sacked and he thinks if this is the game the scouts are coming to, this is the game he wants to show them. He thinks this game gives him a good shot against any and everyone.

His heart’s set on Nebraska but he isn’t opposed to Kansas or Missouri either. They’re a drive, sure, but it’s close enough that he could come home sometimes on the weekends if there’s not a game and it’s easily driveable. He doesn’t know about UCLA. While he thinks California sounds like a pretty place, he doesn’t know that he wants to wear powder blue or live so far away from home. What’s going to happen to his mom or his siblings if he’s not there to protect them from his dad? He doesn’t want to think about it. 

He’s high on the win when he gets back to the locker room and Coach can see they’re all hyped up and ready to go because his speech is brief and he tells them to hit the showers. Will showers as quick as he can and shimmies back into his jeans and shirt before reaching into his locker for a slightly-smushed bouquet of roses. 

When he mentioned at the store that he had a date with Mac, Miss Ethel in the floral department comped him some roses that were going to be thrown out at the end of the day. She’s sweet on him and she knows he’s sweet on Mac and he’s so, so grateful. He’s glad he can have some roses for Mac, especially since he knows she’s incredibly wealthy and there’s not a lot he can do to compare to that. He hopes she doesn’t care but he knows, deep down, that there’s a chance she might. 

He meets Mac in the parking lot. Will has an ancient truck that’s more rust than anything else but he’s grateful for it because it means that he gets to take Mac on a date and doesn’t have to depend on his parents or her parents to take them out on a date or let them use the car. He opens the door for her and boosts her up into the cab. When he does, his hand slips from her waist and brushes against her ass and he draws in a sharp breath. Fuck. Maybe this is what Coach meant about pretty trouble.

It’s not a long ride to Dairy Queen but Mac puts her hand on his knee and Will feels like he’s going to jump out of his skin. Everything about being with her right now is electric and he’s high on the win and high on _her_ and high on the idea that he might get to kiss her again before the night is over. It’s only a little cool out and once they get their ice cream (plain vanilla for Will and chocolate for Mac), he drives them out to the barn that’s on the very back edge of their property. 

It’s a barn they don’t use much and while he can’t do much in the way of a date, he can give her a big pretty sky full of stars and a full moon. He thinks that’s an acceptable enough venue for a date and Mac seems to agree. Will’s put some blankets and pillows in the bed of his truck and he gets them all set up for them, making it a comfy little place for them to hang out. He helps Mac in first and slides in behind her, sitting next to her as close as he can without touching her. 

He wants to put his arm around her shoulders. He wants to kiss her again and kiss her and kiss her until they’re both eased down in the bed of his truck and he’s covering her with his body. He wants Mac to want that with him. He just wants and it’s driving him crazy. Still, there’s a difference between wanting and taking and Will isn’t going to take any more than Mac wants to give. 

She kisses him first. Her lips are cool and taste like chocolate and when she deepens the kiss, he groans and threads his fingers in her hair. It’s just as silky as he imagined on that first day and it feels good against his skin. He kisses her and kisses her until he can’t breathe and he takes a breath, only for Mac to yank him close again and start them all over again. After a few minutes, they both end up sliding down in the truck and Will’s half on top of her; his dick feels uncomfortably hard against her thigh and he’s afraid it’s freaking her out. It freaks him out, this kind of reaction, and he hopes he’s just being weird and it’s not bothering Mac. 

Somehow, in the course of them kissing, his hands wind up under her shirt and his palm is cupping her breast through her bra. Her bra feels flimsy and lacy and his hands feel almost too big and rough to touch something so sweet. She shimmies under him and wriggles and ends up pressing her hips right up against his dick and he groans; it takes him a minute to realize she’s unhooked her bra and given him access to her bare skin. 

Will pushes her shirt up and out of the way and when he sees her bare breasts, he just sighs. Maybe this _is_ pretty trouble but he can’t resist her. Not when she’s so beautiful and so willing and so happy to be here with him. His hands are shaking a little when they touch her breasts and Mac arches up into his hand; her breast fits perfectly into his palm and when he brushes his thumb over her nipple, she whimpers and it stiffens into a hard little peak. 

“This is still good, right?” Will waits until she says it’s all right before he does anything else and when she nods, he lowers his mouth down to kiss her breast. God. Her skin is so soft and she’s so beautiful that he thinks he’s just going to explode. He hopes she feels the same way about him but he can’t help but think he’s gotten the better end of the deal. 

Mac’s thigh is so, so soft under his dick and even though there’s two layers of clothing between their skin, it’s too much for him. Too much. He tries to put some space between them but Mac closes it and she rocks her thigh against him while he’s sliding his tongue around her nipple and he just loses it. He makes a noise that sounds vaguely like nggh and pulls away, embarrassed as hell. Will didn’t even know that could happen and now he’s embarrassed the fuck out of himself in front of a girl he really, really likes.

“Will?” Her skin is pretty and pale, almost luminous in the moonlight and Will smooths a hand over her bare chest and along the curve of her waist. “I um, you’re just beautiful, MacKenzie, and I just kind of lost control a little. I’m sorry.” Mac laughs softly and turns so she’s propped on her hip facing him. She cups his cheek and he just wants to sigh. 

“It was perfect, Will. You were perfect.”

***

The next few weeks pass in a kind of happy blur. Will doesn’t try to go any further with Mac because he’s still horribly embarrassed about what happened on their first date but he has managed to steal some time here and there to take her out and they’ve kissed and held hands. Homecoming is this weekend and while there’s the game on Friday, there’s a dance on Saturday and the football players are expected to go.

Will wants, desperately, to go with Mac. He wants to take her to the dance and show her off to everyone so that they know that this beautiful girl is his girlfriend. Of course, he doesn’t actually know if they’re boyfriend and girlfriend yet and he’s too afraid to ask. He also doesn’t have a suit to wear to the dance and it’s pretty much required. There’s no way he can afford dinner and flowers, either, and he just doesn’t want to disappoint Mac. 

When they meet in the library on Tuesday afternoon, she’s looking at him expectantly and Will knows she wants him to ask. God. Knowing she wants him to ask only serves to make him more nervous about the whole thing, not less, and he doesn’t exactly know how he’s going to get through this without making an idiot of himself. 

“So uh, Saturday? Doyouwannagotothedance?” It all comes out in a smushed-up jumble and Mac is giving him a quizzical look. Damn. He’d hoped that he could get it all out in a rush and she would say yes or no and he could move on. This particular look from her means he has to explain and if he explains it and she does want to go, he has to explain why he can’t actually go with her. He doesn’t want to hurt her. Maybe it’s only been a few weeks but he thinks he’s in love with Mac and he doesn’t ever want to hurt her. 

“Do you want to go to the dance on Saturday? With me?” Mac lights up and nods. There’s a pretty little flush on her cheeks and Will likes it. He likes everything about her and the idea that he put that smile on her face and that blush on her cheeks means the world to him. He just hopes he can figure out a way to make it a good date for her and not disappoint her even though he doesn’t have a lot of money. 

He doesn’t get a lot of time to think about it. He helps Mac study for her math test and goes to practice. He’s a little distracted and throws a couple interceptions when they’re running routes and Coach pulls him to the side and thunks his head lightly. Ouch. 

“What’s going on in there, son? I haven’t seen you like this in, well, ever, because I wouldn’t let you start on my football team if you played like this on a regular basis.” Will tries to shrug it off and say nothing but Coach doesn’t let him get away with it and eventually he just spills it out. It’s stupid and embarrassing but he doesn’t have a suit to wear to take Mac to the dance and he can’t afford flowers and dinner and his truck is old and rusty and not what she wants to be seen in if she’s wearing a pretty dress. Coach sighs for a moment and shakes his head. 

“I told you that girl was trouble. Tell you what? No practice tomorrow, I want you boys to rest up for the game anyway. Don’t tell your dad you’re not having practice and I’ll get that suit handled for you. Got it?” 

Will doesn’t like to take charity but he really wants the suit. He wants a chance to look good for Mac and be the kind of guy she isn’t embarrassed to go out with. He’s distracted for the rest of practice and most of the next day at school. Over lunch, he seeks out Mac and sits with her. She sits with a gaggle of very giggly girls but when she sees how uncomfortable that makes Will, she ends up taking him over to a table that’s in a back corner. 

“What gives? You usually never come to lunch with me,” Mac points out. Will gives her a sheepish grin and tries to make his food seem more interesting than it is. It’s not, really. It’s the same crappy food they always have in the caf at lunch but it’s free and Will eats it all even if he doesn’t want it because he might not get that much for dinner later, depending on how the cattle market is and how much his dad’s drunk this week. 

Mac, on the other hand, has carefully packed lunches from home every day and plenty of fresh fruit. He’s always eyeing her apples and oranges and half the time she gives them to him, giggling about how he eats and eats and never fills up. Will suspects that Mac has never had to actually be truly hungry and probably never will. She might have a craving for something they don’t have in the house but she’s never been _hungry_. 

“I wanted to know if you’d gotten a dress yet.” Mac grins at him. “I have loads of dresses. My father’s taken me to things for his work before and they’re usually black tie. “I’m going to wear a blue one. It’s kind of a dark blue? I guess if you wanted to...coordinate, or something. I’ve never been to a dance with a boy before, it’s all new to me.” 

That makes two of them. Still, if she’s wearing a blue dress, maybe he can get a blue tie. He doesn’t know how much Coach is willing to spend on this and he doesn’t want to push it. He just wants a decent suit so that he doesn’t embarrass Mac on their date. He doesn’t think that’s too much to ask for. Will glances around to see if there’s any teachers around and when he doesn’t see any, he reaches for Mac’s hand and holds it tight, thumb brushing over the back of it. 

He eats the rest of his meal one handed, unwilling to let her go.

***

Charlie ends up taking him to a department store in Lincoln to buy the suit. Will has only been to this store once, when he was a little boy, and ended up getting in trouble because he knocked over some of the displays roughhousing with Michael. His mother hadn’t been pleased and he thinks her disappointed face scared him more than his dad scared him later on; he never likes disappointing his mother.

He’s being measured from head to toe by a man in the men’s department who grins and asks if he’s Coach’s son. He sure would like to be. It would be nice to be Coach Skinner’s son and live in a nice house downtown and come home to plenty to eat and a happy family every night. It’s not his life but he wants to pretend it is for a little while. Coach doesn’t elaborate, merely says that Will’s getting ready to go to his first dance and he needs a suit and shoes and a shirt and tie. Coach throws in new underwear and socks too and it all just feels like too much. 

“Have you ordered that girl some flowers yet? She’s going to need a corsage.” Will had thought he might just pick Mac some more daisies and voices this when Coach sputters and shakes his head. God. Okay. Maybe he’s going about this all the wrong way. 

“You can’t pick that girl some daisies off the side of the road. I’ll put in a order at the florists for her.” Will gives him a sheepish smile. “Coach, you don’t have to do that. I can figure out the flowers.” He doesn’t want to take too much. He doesn’t want to be someone’s charity case, even if that someone is Coach. 

“Nonsense, boy. I’ll get the flowers. Take that girl out somewhere nice for dinner, too,” he says, and he rolls off a few bills to give to him. Will pockets the money and vows that he’s going to pay Coach back for this someday. He’s going to keep track of everything Coach has ever spent on him and someday when he’s a lawyer or something in New York, he’s going to write a check to Charlie Skinner for everything he’s ever given him. He’s going to buy Miss Ethel at the store something nice. He’s going...he’s going to make sure his mother never has to worry about anything ever again. 

He gets Coach to drop him off back at school and Will drives his truck home. He’s home in about the same time as he would have been if he had practice and hopefully he can sneak the clothes in without his dad noticing. When he gets in the house, Michael’s watching something on tv and Mary and Susan have a puzzle spread out over the living room floor. “Dad’s in the barn,” Susan says, barely looking up. “Seagram’s.” 

Oh. Will puts the package with his clothes in his room and goes to see his mother in the kitchen. She doesn’t look any worse for the wear and maybe his dad hasn’t gotten drunk enough to hit her today. Maybe he got home in time and he can take the worst of it so he won’t hurt the rest of them. Will is always going to want to be the shield for them, if it means he can protect them all from being hurt. 

He heads out to the barn as fast as he can. Maybe he can just head this off at the pass and nobody has to get hurt tonight. His dad is leaning against their old tractor and there’s only a little Seagram’s still in the bottle. His eyes are glassy and Will knows that he’s just drunk enough to be mean now and he’s got to tread very lightly. It hadn’t taken Will long to learn how to juke in football; he’s been juking his whole life with John McAvoy playing defender. 

“Where the fuck have you been? Mike said you didn’t have practice. Been hanging around your little slut again?” Will tries to resist getting angry. While his father apparently knows about Mac, he isn’t going to let him touch her. He’s not going to let his dad ruin one of the best things about his life and he’s not going to let him touch Mac. He’s not going to let it happen. 

“Coach took me to get a suit. Homecoming is Saturday.” His dad snorts and fumbles in his pocket for something; he comes up with a cigarette and two foil packets that Will knows are condoms. He’s been to sex ed, it’s required in school, but that’s the extent of his knowledge about the look and use of condoms. There’s a flash of silver as the condoms fly out of his father’s hand and Will catches them automatically. 

“Don’t let her ruin your life. Next thing you know, you’re stuck with four kids and you can’t do anything because some bitch is nagging you all the time. Fuck her, if you want, but wrap it up.” Will clenches his fist tight and crosses the few feet between them. When they’re close, his dad isn’t intimidating at all. John McAvoy is reed thin and only about 5’10” and Will is built more like Duncan stock - he’s tall like Grandpa Duncan and his uncles. He gets up in his dad’s face and his voice is soft and quiet and barely above a hiss. 

“Don’t you _ever_ talk about MacKenzie like that. Ever. If I ever hear you talk about her that way again, I’ll knock you the fuck into next week. She’s not for you to talk about. As far as you’re concerned, she doesn’t even exist.” He shoves him and his dad shoves back. “Yeah, well, I’m still your father and I’ll talk any fucking way I want to. You’re not going to that fucking dance. You’re not playing on Friday night.” 

Will backs away. Suddenly, it doesn’t even matter anymore. He grabs the bottle from his father’s hand and throws it to the ground, shattering the cheap glass. “I’ll do whatever I want. You can’t touch me. I’m going to be better than you, someday, and you’re still going to be a pathetic drunk with a small life. You can’t even touch me.” 

Will storms out of the barn and when he gets halfway back to the house, he realizes the condoms are still crushed in his hand. He shoves them into his pocket and goes the rest of the way to his room; John McAvoy is dumb and mean and he’s not going to let him ruin the little corner of his life that is Mac. He’s just not going to let him do it.

***

When Saturday rolls around, Will is nervous. He’s still driving his beat up old truck but he’s going to pick Mac up at her parents’ house and take her to dinner at the only restaurant in town - an Italian place with warm, crusty bread and homemade sauces. He has enough money from Coach and his own job that he can let Mac order anything she wants and he hopes she has a good time. He wants, desperately, to impress her and her parents.

His hand is trembling when he knocks on her door and when her mother opens it, she looks like an older, more elegant version of Mac. Will is trying to think how to introduce himself to her when Mac’s mother steps aside and lets him in with a soft smile on her face. She looks so, so much like Mac. 

“You must be William. MacKenzie has told me all about you and it’s nice to finally have a face to put with a name. She’s not ready yet but you should come on inside.” Will steps into her house and marvels at it for a minute. He knew Mac was rich but he had no idea she was this rich. Her house is big enough to drop his inside it three times over and there’s six people in his house and only three in hers. 

“You must be the infamous William.” Will wonders just how Mac describes him to her parents if they both think he’s named William. This time, it’s her father, and that makes him even more nervous than her mother. He has extra flowers from the florist and he hands them to her mother. “I got these for you, Mrs. McHale.” His mother and Coach both say that women like flowers and he wants to make the best impression he can. 

Mac’s mother gasps a little and kisses him on both cheeks when he gives her the flowers and he escapes just in time to see Mac coming down the stairs. Her dress is midnight blue with little rhinestones on it that wink and blink like stars. She’s beautiful, more beautiful than he’s ever seen her before and he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

“You look _nice_ ,” he says, trying to check his reactions in front of her parents. She blushes a little and her father frowns. “Remember, Daddy, I’m going to stay with Mary after the dance. I’m going to be home tomorrow afternoon.” He nods and tells them both to have a good time and then Will is out the door with her. He doesn’t know who Mary is. Mary is his sister, of course, but there’s other Marys at school and Will has no idea which one she means. 

He drives her to the restaurant and they’re halfway through a lasagna when he finally gets up the nerve to ask. “Who’s Mary? Is she in one of your classes or something?” 

Mac blinks at him for a moment and then starts giggling, so now Will feels really stupid. She leans in and whispers a little, her voice sounding equal parts nervous and excited. “I lied so I could spend the night with you.” 

It takes Will a minute to realize what she means and when it dawns on him, it feels like there’s a stone in the pit of his stomach. If Mac wants to spend the night with him, it might mean she wants sex and the condoms he tucked into his wallet suddenly feel like they’re burning a hole. He doesn’t even know if he wants to have sex with her but now that the opportunity is there, he can’t stop thinking about it. 

Will pays for their food and drives Mac out to the dance. He’s actually a great dancer. He took tap dancing lessons when he was younger and had to wait while Mary and Susan were dancing ballet and he learned as much as he could about it before his father found out and put a stop to it. _That’s sissy faggot shit. You’re not doing it._

Some slow song comes on late in the dance and Will loves being able to wrap his arms around Mac and just sway with her. She lays her head against his shoulder and whispers, oh-so-softly, _I love you_ and he kisses her hair. God. He loves her so much. He loves her so much that his heart just feels big and full. He reaches for her hand and squeezes it and Mac seems to get that they should go. Will just feels...nervous, excited and scared all at once. 

He ends up driving them out to the far edge of his property again and instead of crawling in the back of the truck, he leads her into the barn. He’s been working on fixing it up over the last few weeks since he knows it’s going to just get colder and colder and now there’s a soft little bed of hay and several blankets and pillows. Mac grins at him and shimmies out of her dress and Will swallows thickly. Good God.

“You look beautiful,” he says softly. He draws close and unhooks her bra and pushes down her panties and just looks. He drinks in all her pretty pale skin and her freckles and just...all of her. Every single perfect inch of her. He strips off his clothes haphazardly and when he draws her down onto the blanket, he’s determined to make this good. It sucked last time and that was his fault but he’s going to make this good. 

“Can I touch you?” Mac is trembling a little in his arms and she murmurs a soft “yes,” before he skims his hand down her body. He slides it up and down, just touching lightly, and draws his fingers around one of her nipples until it draws up hard and tight. He remembers the last time they got this far that she liked it when he kissed her there and so he does that again, lavishing attention on one breast and then the other, over and over until Mac is whimpering and squirming under him. 

Will thinks if his mouth feels good there, maybe it’d feel good somewhere else and he eases Mac back onto her back and slides down between her thighs, touching his mouth lightly against her. She cries out even louder and Will pulls his head up, grinning awkwardly. “It’s good? You like it?” Mac doesn’t answer but she does push his head down between her legs again and Will licks and sucks at her softly, teasing her until she arches her hips out and cries out softly. 

“Will! Oh God, Will, Will? Will, I want you.” Will still isn’t too sure about sex but he’s got the condoms and he reaches for one of them, carefully opening the package because the last thing he wants is to tear the damn thing. He doesn’t want to hurt Mac or ruin her life or ruin his life and he wants to do right by her. He wants to be sure she’s going to have as bright a future as she deserves. 

He rolls the condom down on his dick slowly and slides up to cover her. His dick brushes against her thigh and he draws in a sharp, sharp breath. He bites his lip hard enough to draw blood when Mac wraps her slim fingers around him and guides him into her. She winces a little and Will freezes. “Mac? Mac, oh God, Mac, did I hurt you?” He starts to pull away but she digs her fingers into his shoulder. 

“Just wait for a second. Okay? Just a second.” Will waits and it feels like an eternity. Even though the condom she’s hot and tight around his dick and he doesn’t think he can stand it. When she relaxes, he moves in her as slowly as he can manage and he’s trying his best to make it last. It feels like an eternity and he watches her face the whole time, watches when her eyes sweep shut and her lashes are a soft, dark fan against pale skin. He kisses her when he comes, pulling her close, and he knows that there’s no place else he wants to be for the rest of his life. 

Just here. Just with Mac.

***

Will wakes up with Mac in his arms and he doesn’t want to take her home, ever, but he does. He gives her a ride to her neighborhood and lets her walk home, not wanting her parents to know they spent the night together or what they did. Will feels like anyone who looks at him just has to know he’s not a virgin anymore and he doesn’t know if Mac feels the same way but he just...he can’t stop smiling. He’s on top of the world.

When he gets back home, Coach’s car is in his driveway. That’s...different. It’s definitely weird. He comes back into the house and his parents are at the table with Charlie and oh. _Oh._

“Billy, this is Tom. He’s a coach at Nebraska.” His mother looks bright eyed and happy in a way he hasn’t seen her in a long time and even his father doesn’t seem to be in a shitty mood. Will sits down at the table across from them and Tom gives him a little smile. 

“Son? I was wondering if you’d like to officially commit to Nebraska for 1983. Full scholarship, room and board. Any major you want.” 

Will looks to his parents and looks to Coach, who looks so happy he could burst. It’s not a difficult thing to say yes and it’s even less difficult to sign the paperwork and make everything official. He’s a Husker now, a QB at one of the best colleges in the country and he’s going places. He’s going to be something. 

This is his chance.


End file.
